Conversation Rewind
by crackedradio
Summary: It has become a nightly ritual for them to have the same conversation over and over again. Takes place after the Closed Fist ending, SkyxWu.


**Title:** Conversation Rewind  
**Characters/Pairing: **Wu, the Lotus Blossom, Sky; SkyxWu  
**Warnings:** Spoilers for the Closed Fist/Tainted Waterdragon ending

**Author's note: **I am rather satisfied with the way this story turned out, though I originally was not so happy with the ending. I rather like it now, however. Should I have butchered the English language at some point in the story, I kindly ask you to drop me a note. Even extensive prove-reading can only do so much. ConCrit is welcome and encouraged :3

**Conversation Rewind**

The Goddess is combing her hair with her reflection echoing in the mirror in front of her, Death's Hand is standing in the shadows watching her intently and most of all quietly. Or rather watching her reflection in the mirror intently, and most of all quietly. It's not becoming of him to speak up without her permission.

So it has become a nightly ritual for her to start the conversation the same way over and over again.

"What does the peasant on the streets cry every day?" she asks him, almost uncaring, while the chilly tone in her voice is anything but. She does not even turn around to look at him.

"'Oh, Great Goddess Wu,' they say, 'we worship you. There is no greater leader than the Goddess Wu!' " he answers obediently, but gladly, for he knows that this will please her. And he loves pleasing her, even if what he does for her sickens him to the core and slowly kills him on the inside. All unpleasant (and criminally _wrong) _thoughts disappear when he sees from his position in the darkness the way the corners of her mouth curl up into an almost-smile.

"What does the intellectual in the Imperial Garden lament?" The chill has disappeared from her voice. She is still combing her hair.

"'The Great Goddess Wu,' they whisper, 'has eyes and ears everywhere. Now dissenting thought escapes her, and there is not a single trace of mercy in her for dissent. Curse the Tyrant Wu!" She always stops in her tracks when he speaks those words while her face turning into a grimace of pure rage is reflected in the mirror. And he agrees with her. Who are these maggots to question her?

"And what do the snakes in the Palace hiss?" There is nothing even remotely uncaring in her tone or body language now, just anger. But this time his answer is a different one, though not unexpected.

"The snakes hiss nothing, for the Great Goddess Wu has sent her Hand of Death to silence them all, once and for all." Her mood lightens up considerably, and she stands up to walk up to his place in the darkness.

"And what does the Death's Hand think of the Great Goddess Wu?" Amusement, and a bit of affection. At least he likes to think it is, sometimes. He can't really read her thoughts, even when he is standing face to face to her like now.

"The Death's Hand thinks that she is the greatest leader the Jade Empire has ever seen, the only entity worthy of being called a god. Words cannot express his admiration". His words make her grin brightly. It is not what one would call a pretty grin – all teeth and little warmth. It is like she can read his thoughts; a not too farfetched thought, all things considered.

"There is no reason to lie, Sky," She does not call him by his birth-name often anymore, unless she desires to make a point, "and there is no reason to feel doubt, either. Have I ever given you reason to doubt me? No, I have not."

A pause, then: "Tell me what you told me all those years ago, when I seized control of the debris of the Empire and turned it into something magnificent."

"I made a pledge of love, a pledge of loyalty." Sky knows how little his love has come to mean to her. All she cares about is control and ways to achieve it," I swore to follow you anywhere, anytime and to obey your every whim." But at least she trusts him, he supposes. That alone is already means the world to him.

"And do you honor that pledge, Sky?"

"Yes. Every second of my life, I devote to it. To you." He is not lying when he speaks those words, but somehow he can never quite quell the lingering voice of doubt – _voice of conscience_ - in his head. 'Please,' he wants to beg her, 'make it gone.'

"Good. Very Good. You deserve a reward for your good service," she is taking his hands into hers, guiding is hands to her face. He is not allowed to touch without her explicit permission, either, "No one shall say that I don't reward my most loyal follower once in awhile." What sounds like a seductive promise, is nothing but the allowance of simple, affectionate touches for someone so starved of love and warmth that he will gladly take whatever bone is thrown to him. This, too, has become part of their nightly ritual.

He is caressing her cheeks, like she lets him every time he executes his duties exceptionally well - and this temporary quills all his doubt and all his guilt.

Except that this time he is leaving smears of blood on her face. When Sky realizes what he does, when he realizes that the sight of this blood does not sicken him, that all he lives for is standing in front of him, he remembers how it came down to this. It is almost like a rebirth.

The man called Sky died when he made his pledge to the Goddess. From his ashes raised the new Death's Hand.

And it knows neither doubt nor guilt.


End file.
